


Lost

by SurelyHeavenWaits



Series: In An Alternate Universe [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurelyHeavenWaits/pseuds/SurelyHeavenWaits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He drifts on eternally. Lost in the Never space, the void between. If he was honest with himself, he would say that he had never quite imagined the unraveling of his time stream to be so boring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This wouldn't leave me alone after watching the Big Bang so here you go! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the Doctor Who Characters.

He drifts on eternally. Lost in the Never space, the void between. If he was honest with himself, he would say that he had never quite imagined the unraveling of his time stream to be so boring. After choosing to skip his repeats, he had stepped through the crack and fallen. Down, down, down he went, through cracks and tears ripped in the fabric of time and space, ones that his ship had created.

Its not the loneliness that gets to him. Its not the deafening absence of any noise. Not the absence of any light. Well, in a way it is. Because its the boredom, he thinks, that drives him crazy. Crazy, because suddenly, he's there. He's home.

The grass is still red, the leaves are still silver and the city of Arcadia is still smoking in the not-so-distant distance. His feet move without orders, swiftly taking him to the second great city of Gallifrey, the city that he knew had fallen. He walks the ruined streets, sees the survivors desperately searching rubble for hints of more. More survivors, more dead, he isn't sure but he can't stop himself from helping. Children, the majority are children. How many children on Gallifrey the day he sentenced them to burn? Children, once so precious to his kind until the Looms began to run. Still precious. Oh, all of the children. In a fit of pathetic depression, he had counted them all, all the children he had murdered.

He keeps walking. Keeps helping. They ask his name but he gives them a lie, knows better than to give his own name. Hated by his own people, and for good reason, they would never accept him here. But where are the Daleks, he asks himself. No trace in the sky nor on the ground and then he truly looks up. The sky is empty. No other planets or moons mark the wide expanse, Gallifrey is alone and that should pique his curiosity but he is overcome by the weight of the destruction of these innocent children.

He walks through the city, leaves its gates and keeps walking. City gives way to sand and still he walks. The shack is where it always must be but the door is barred for him. He slides to his knees before the door, sunken in sand and misery. If he's being honest with himself, he prefers the boredom. A crack appears behind him and he steps through, falling down.

Down, down, down he falls. Again with the complete absence of everything but now he welcomes oblivion to misery, to his past and his sins. It doesn't last. Nothing good ever lasts for him.

He crashes into a rubbish bin in the street before a very tall tower. Torchwood Tower, he knows but it feels wrong. Everything is wrong. The colors are too dull, the sounds muffled, the air tastes wrong. There's an ache in his chest. He stumbles through the doors, letting his wandering feet roam aimlessly. They bring him to an infirmary, where his metacrisis lays gasping for air, hooked up to monitors and oxygen. Its wrong. So wrong. He's aged maybe five years, not long at all. His old face glares at him accusingly.

"She's going to be alone now, and its all your fault."

"It is," he admits and plops in the chair beside him. Briefly, he wonders how long until his time stream is completely unraveled and he can rest away from this that is worse than any torture. The oblivion of the void is so much sweeter than acknowledging all of his mistakes.

The metacrisis glares harder. "How are you here? Why are you here? Did you get the message?"

"Here? Here is just a hallucination, old chap. Just the end of my time stream, grasping at straws. And even my mind is going, I can't even conjure up what I dearly most wanted to see. I walked backwards through my time stream, I walked the streets of Arcadia. Now here. Here I am. What message? Not that it matters. If I'm being quite honest, I think my mind has finally cracked. All that Never Space, I'm sure."

"Daddy?" A head pops up from the other side of the bed and the metacrisis weakly pats the child's hair.

"Its all right, Danny. All right now. Where's your mummy gone?"

"To get food, remember?"

He stares in shock at the child, pretty impressed with his imagination to dream up the child with golden blonde hair and wild, ancient brown eyes. He guesses the child is nearly eight, maybe older, maybe younger.

The child eyes him critically. "You're not supposed to be here. Are you dying?"

"I'm already dead," he answers the child and leans over the metacrisis. A wisp of gold passes through the air between them, causing the part human, part Time Lord to seize momentarily. "If this is real, you need this more than I do." He reaches out to touch the child, too old to be the metacrisis' child and clenches his fingers into a fist. The tug in his chest is painful now, a crack appears behind him.

"Have a fantastic life, for me. For them," he tells his other half and the man nods, no longer gasping for air. He vanishes through the crack, a second before she enters the room and cries out in happiness to see her love standing hale and whole with a little help from Danny.

When he falls down again, he is not alone. A hand holds his own, a pair of deep blue eyes with golden spots that twinkle like stars at him from beneath a curtain of hair so black it has a tint of Tardis blue to it. She reminds him of space and time, all of space with stars in her eyes. Bad Wolf, the words are supplied to him. Must be. The girl smiles at him, presses a finger to his lips and wipes a tear from his eye.

"All will be well. Time moves on, as you must. Your reward comes. You will not be punished forever," she tells him, her voice layered and ancient. 

Down they fall, hands clasped as oblivion slides past them. Below, he sees a light. Deep, bright, the bluest blue. A smile crosses his lips and she squeezes his hand as they hurtle ever closer. 

"She has done as you desired, the girl who waited. She still waits. You are late for her wedding. Darkness is coming, dark times are ahead but not all is dark and your reward will come. Go, go save the universe, Doctor." Oblivion takes over his mind slowly and the last he feels is the gentle tug of her hand pulling free from his own.

When he awakes in the Tardis, he is alone and remembers nothing but telling little Amelia Pond a bed time story. He rushes to dress for a wedding, hears her Scottish accent clearly through the Tardis door.

"Did I surprise you this time?" she asks with smugness in her voice, and he pulls open the Tardis door wearing a grin and a fancy suit.

"Er, yeah. Completely astonished. Never expected that. How lucky I happened to be wearing this old thing. Hello, everyone. I'm Amy's imaginary friend. But I came anyway," he spins around, laughs at her astonished guests.

Time keeps moving on, as does the Doctor.


End file.
